Because I'm a doctor
by LaurielS
Summary: This series of one shots delves into the character analysis of McCoy, as well as his place in the triumvirate, through the various episodes in the original series. Next: Mirror, Mirror.
1. Miri

**Because I'm a doctor**

Author's Note: I didn't feel that there was enough McCoy centric fics out there, so I decided to write one because come on, he withstood all the things he gets thrown into ( _Thanks, Captain. Not forgetting you, hobgoblin.)!_ The first of this series of one shots takes place in the episode "Miri", which was an awesome episode!

This story had previously ended half way through as I was thinking of writing two separate chapters. However, this is meant to be a series of one shots, so I have now completed it (20/04).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except my own ideas

 **Chapter 1: Miri**

He has often heard of the phrase, "these kids will be the death of me", but he has never thought that it would apply so literally in his life. They had taken the communicators, which was ( _of course_ ) the one crucial thing they needed to make contact with the ship and determine whether the vaccine they had synthesised was a cure or a poison.

They didn't have much time left; the lesions were already spreading and was appearing in almost every part of the body, meaning that the virus had entered the bloodstream and could well start to infect the vital organs.

"We can't wait for these communicators any longer," McCoy said, breaking the long silence, willing to do something apart from sitting around and awaiting death.

"We must. The vaccine could be fatal." Spock's tone was stern, indicating that this was not up for discussion.

Under normal circumstances, McCoy would have agreed with him; hell, he's a doctor, and patient safety always came first. But this was not normal times.

"The disease certainly is," McCoy argued, "How long do we have left? Hours, minutes? How much longer do you want to wait?"

There were times when Spock was grateful for McCoy's hard headedness, but this was not the time, and he could feel a headache coming up should he try to reason with the illogical human again.

"Bickering is pointless. I'll check on the Captain's progress," with that, Spock made a quick exit.

Whether Spock realised it or not, he had been the only thing standing between McCoy and the hypo. With Spock gone, McCoy knew this was a rare chance that he had to take.

A vaccine is usually first tested out in mice, before receiving approval to move on to non-human primates, and finally to humans. With medical advancements, researchers had managed to increase the success rate of a vaccine since the 20th century. But this vaccine, thought McCoy as he turned the hypo over, this was made with the outdated equipment of the 19th century available on the planet to analyse the samples, without full access to the scientific and medical equipment of the current century. Its success rate was not optimistic, and the adjuvant they had chosen, although known to stimulate the immune system, was highly toxic with little room for error.

Theoretically, this vaccine would work, but theory is often far from practical, especially in biology. They needed a test subject this very instant; unfortunately, they had no access to any test animals, and it is unethical and unfair to try a vaccine that could possibly kill on a human.

Spock is a scientist through and through, no doubt about it. His highly logical mind and lack of emotions made him almost a perfect scientist, and like any good scientist, he wanted to make sure that things work before using it.

But McCoy is different. He is a doctor first, a scientist second. His job is to save lives…

He turned the hypo over in his hands again, scrutinising the red liquid that could well be a cure.

…Even if it means sacrificing his own.

Before he lost his nerve, he stabbed the hypo in his arm and emptied its contents, heart still racing.

 _Calm down,_ he thought, _it's comin—_

The reaction was almost immediate—pain flared through his chest, and it took all his self-restrain to stop himself from crying out. He tried to reach out for something to lean onto; instead, he collapsed heavily onto the nearest object, greatly weakened. The impact left a metallic tinge in his mouth and he fought to stop himself from throwing up.

He couldn't think any more as pain flooded through his body. There was something important he had to do, but he couldn't remember…

 _Vaccine. Cure._

He had to call Spock to take note of the vaccine. He was the only one who had the knowledge to synthesise another should this one fail.

"SPOCK!"

The cry took all of his strength, and he soon found himself quickly descending into the depths of darkness as he heard footsteps running towards him.

* * *

The instant Spock saw McCoy unconscious on the ground, he was 95.7% sure of what had happened, and the remaining 4.3% was confirmed when he ran beside the doctor and discovered an empty hypospray. Immediately, he remembered the conversation they had 10.42 minutes ago and regretted leaving the room in the first place.

 _Why are you so impatient, Doctor?_

But what was done was done, and the only thing Spock could do now was to examine McCoy and understand the effects of the vaccine. He checked the eyes quickly before going for the heartbeat but could only detect a mere fluttering of the heart. Concerned, he tried the pulse, and was somewhat relieved to find its presence, pulsing weakly but regularly.

"Is he dead, Mr Spock?" asked Lieutenant Galloway, clearly worried and shaken by the sudden turn of events.

Spock wished he could give an affirmative answer, but he knew from his calculations during the design of the vaccine that the vaccine had not yet finished its work. Pushing away his emotional side, Spock checked on McCoy and allowed logic to take over as he mentally made a few notes and suggestions on how to improve the vaccine. It was only when he had finished making these notes and determined that they could only wait out the effects of the vaccine did Spock indulge in his human half and answered with a tinge of fear as his hands remained near McCoy's heart,

"Not yet."

* * *

"Three hours, eleven minutes left," Jim's relieved voice echoed throughout the laboratory, "thank you, Lieutenant. Keep this channel open. Clear your computers…"

 _Shouldn't they be working on the vaccine? Where are they?_

And then he saw them: Spock, Galloway, and…

Only one other person was unaccounted for.

 _Bones._

He gingerly stepped towards the unconscious form of his friend, fear rising in him.

 _No. He cannot be too late._

"What—what happened to him?"

He didn't dare to search for a pulse, just in case…

"He injected himself with the vaccine," came Spock's answer, logical and yet not without worry, eyes never leaving McCoy, "He was unconscious when I found him."

 _What the hell, Bones._

 _Why did you do this?_

But he knew the answer, and he knew eventually, some day, it was probably going to end like this—Bones dying to save a patient. Yet, he refused to think that that day would be today (or really, any day); it just seemed so WRONG, they had only started out, their mission was still a long way…

The ship couldn't do without her cranky doctor taking care of the crew. The captain couldn't do without the emotional balance to Spock's cold logic.

And Jim Kirk; Jim Kirk couldn't do without the 'friend' threatening him with physicals and the best drinking buddy on the ship. He couldn't even think about that ever happening.

As his eyes went back to the prone, unmoving body before him, he prayed to whatever deity there might be in the universe.

 _Not today, Bones._

 _Please._

* * *

Perhaps there's been a change in Jim Kirk's luck, or that McCoy's bit of luck finally came through, but McCoy survived the vaccine, and his breathing started to even out.

"Look at his face!"

Kirk's hopeful voice lifted Spock's heart ( _fascinating…_ ), who proceeded to tilt the doctor's head so that he could monitor the lesions better. Behold, the lesions were indeed disappearing bit by bit.

"The blemishes are fading," Spock murmured, fascinated by the sight in front of him as the skin seemed to heal spontaneously, a sight not usually seen in most pathogen-induced lesions, "they are fading…"

The vaccine worked. The gamble paid off.

"Who would understand the medical mind?"

 _Was it desperation? Was it luck?_

 _Or was it really just pure intuition?_

Leave it to a human to take risks based on his/her own feelings.

But one other human was suffering from a fear that, really, makes a human human.

 _What if it hadn't?_ was what Jim Kirk couldn't stop thinking, _what if it hadn't worked?_ He felt suffocated as these thoughts churned in his mind over and over again. _They were lucky this time, but how many times can they pull this off until…_

 _Until…_

All of a sudden, he couldn't stand the lab any longer, knowing that this place was where his friend had willingly took the risk for all of them, gambling his own life in the process. Lost in his thoughts, he offered a weak smile to the children and left the lab.

"Is this supposed to be a good thing, Miri?" he heard Jahn ask the little girl who was now growing up.

"Of course it is," came Miri's happy reply, though it wasn't without a tinge of sadness, for she had grown to like this strange group of aliens that looked so much like them.

 _Of course it is…_ the answer echoed in Kirk's head, _there was hope that these children would be safe, that their species wouldn't become extinct, and most important of all,_

 _They wouldn't lose another crew member anymore._

 _And really, in the end, it's the time they have with each other that matters most, isn't it?_

Kirk took a deep breath and looked at the horizon, where the sun was rising over the town, just as hope now shone upon this once-doomed town.

Kirk unclenched his fist as his mind cleared.

Time to contact Starfleet.

* * *

When McCoy woke up a few minutes later, he found himself lying on a table staring into the eyes of several young children.

"Mr Spock, Mr Spock, he's awake!" came a girl's voice, followed by some indistinguishable shouts and laughter and—

 _Children. Miri. Vaccine._

 _I'm alive?_

"Good to see you awake, doctor. We now have approximately 2 hours and 57 minutes to improve the vaccine."

 _Yeah, I'm not dead. If I was, the hobgoblin wouldn't be here talking about a vaccine._

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," McCoy stifled a gasp as he pulled the muscles of his still-aching abdomen, "Did you take any notes as the vaccine was working?"

"Yes doctor. I believe we can start by decreasing the amount of adjuvant by one-eighteenth…"

 _Trust Spock to have formulated a better solution already,_ thought McCoy; not that he would admit it to Spock, of course. As McCoy looked through Spock's detailed writings and calculations and fine-tuned the vaccine based on his medical knowledge, he couldn't help but think that perhaps this five year journey would be bearable after all.

-End of Miri-


	2. Mirror, Mirror

**Because I'm a Doctor**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, except my own ideas.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! This little piece explores a missing scene in Mirror, Mirror; we've always heard that an unreciprocated Vulcan mind meld often leaves scars, but why did McCoy seem less affected? Here's my take on that, which, in my opinion, reflects McCoy's motivation and strength, and how the triumvirate offered the last bit of stability he needed to pull himself together again.

 **Chapter 2: Mirror, Mirror**

Besides being skilled in medicine, a fact lesser known to Starfleet (and buried under all the titles following his name) was that Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy, M.D., PhD, etc etc was also well versed in psychology—indeed, that was the reason why the Enterprise had no need for a separate psychologist position, for McCoy was more than qualified to handle any cases.

In usual cases, that was fine; occasionally, this was even a benefit, because McCoy was always updated with any personnel's physical health and knew the social groups within the Enterprise, thus when someone comes to him for psychological advice he can connect the dots easily and give the best advice. Of course, occasionally he needs to consult one or two people, but that certainly beats having to discuss every single patient constantly with another person.

The downside of this, of course, is that when the sole psychologist needs a psychologist to talk to…

There's no one available.

 _Why did the Captain let me live?_

Try as he might, he couldn't get rid of the scene—he could still feel Mirror Spock's firm grip of his hand, refusing to let go, even though his wrist has been free for over an hour now. He recognises this as an aftermath of what was essentially a mental torture, but he couldn't help himself…

 _The eyes. Staring intently into his own, as if digging through his very thoughts._

He remembers every single detail of the encounter. He remembers how Spock— _no, MIRROR Spock, not our Spock_ —grabbed his arm dominantly and edged him towards the wall threateningly. He remembers his eyes widening as the long, thin fingers of ISS Enterprise's First Officer brushed upon the melding points on his face like the videos he had watched in Medical school regarding Vulcan's past and the psychological torture methods that had been used during that time, in his Xenobiology course.

 _"The Vulcan mind meld, if used forcefully, can cause the victim to become insane permanently,"_ he remembers his lecturer saying, _"Even if there's no insanity, the psychological effect will be rather lasting."_

He hopes fervently that he won't be going down THAT road any time soon.

 _Our minds are merging, doctor. Our minds are one._

He clenches his fist as Mirror Spock's voice echoed in his mind again, willing himself to just forget the entire incident.

 _"The damage is not easily reversed; it requires the aid of a trained Vulcan healer,"_ his lecturer's voice floated in again.

He has never thought he would one day be on the receiving end.

 _I know what you know, I feel what you feel…_

"Doctor McCoy?" came Chapel's worried voice.

He jumped. _When did Chapel come into his office, and how did he not realise?_

 _Pull yourself together_ , he thought, as Mirror Spock's face emerged in his mind again, _that is not the Spock I know; he is not here._

"Yes?"

"The Captain requests your presence on the Bridge, sir," came Chapel's rather guarded reply as she looked intently at the pale face of her usually unshakeable superior, "he claims he's been comming your office but to no avail."

 _Dammit. And he didn't even realise._

"Are you sure you're alright, Doctor?" Chapel asked again, more gently this time.

He meets her gaze directly and quirks his best smile. "Yes, Chris; I'm a doctor you know. And tell the Captain I'll be right there."

Chapel nodded, a tad unconvinced, but did not say anything. As she turned away, McCoy looked once more at his room and his medical books.

Chief Medical Officer, Dr Leonard H. McCoy.

He was the CMO of the ship. He was responsible for the health of the crew. The ship depended on him.

 _He could feel the tendrils encircling his mind, suffocating him, rummaging through his thoughts without care, leaving him to pick up the pieces._

He strides towards the turbolift resolutely and takes a deep breath.

 _Tell me, doctor. Let me know._

"I am Leonard McCoy," he whispers to himself as the turbolift started moving, "Chief Medical Officer. USS Enterprise."

And so he strove on, ignoring the taunting voice in his head.

All too soon, the turbolift hisses open and he strides onto the Bridge as if nothing has happened. He sees Scotty's worry as he looked at him with an expression that clearly asked if he's alright. He's not surprised—after all, if his tattered memory remembers right, Scotty was the one who led him away from Mirror Spock onto the transporter when he had been too distraught to do so. He gives a slight nod to Scotty's implicit question, but the slightly unconvinced look on Scotty's face told him his act wasn't really that convincing. He was glad that Scotty didn't pursue the matter, however, as he was distracted by a young ensign at the controls asking him some engineering question.

McCoy makes an effort and places himself right opposite Spock such that both of them flanked the captain's left and right and looks at Spock in the eye as he spoke.

 _Ignoring Mirror Spock's voice in his head._

"I think I like him with the beard better. It gave him character," he offers his opinion with its usual barb aimed at Spock, and somehow finds it suddenly easier to not fear the face that was identical to his tormenter. "Of course, almost any change is an improvement," he finishes offhandedly.

He hears Kirk subtly making fun of the stoic Vulcan, and almost even smiles as said Vulcan replies calmly but not without a bit of sarcasm in his words, no matter how the Vulcan might deny it— and it is this bit of sarcasm that makes him truly see Spock as Spock, and not as his mirror counterpart.

For the first time since he came back, he truly recognises this as USS Enterprise.

"I'm not sure, but I think we've been insulted," said Jim looking at him, as if waiting for a witty reply.

"I'm sure," he offers easily and prepares to go down to Sickbay as Spock turns back to his science station. Looking around the Bridge before he leaves, he promises himself that he has to pull himself out of this mental mess—it must be done for the sake of his friends and the crew, even if not for himself.

Because he's a doctor, and he cannot be the one this crew needs if he doesn't pull himself together.

 **-End of Mirror, Mirror**


End file.
